The unbearable lightness of being

“Perfection is achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.” ― Antonie de Saint-Exupery

You may have heard of something about the KonMari tidying method by Japanese minimalist cleaning and organizing expert Marie Kondo. When her book “the life-changing magic of tidying was published in the US years ago, a cleaning craze swept the nation. People took their unwanted items, those that no longer sparked joy to donation centers which caused an overflow of abundance of stuff.

The driving philosophy behind Kondo’s methods is to keep only the items that spark joy within you, those items that resonate with you in the deepest sense, and donate or toss those that don’t.

“After all, what is the point in tidying? If it’s not so that our space and the things in it can bring us happiness, then I think there is no point at all,” Kondo writes in her book. She continues by saying, “To truly cherish the things that are important to you, you must first discard those that have outlived their purpose.”

Lately I have been embarking on a decluttering process with my camera equipment. I have documented the changes in taste I experienced with my photography during the past few years. Instead of looking forward to resuming my practice of photographing the grand landscapes, nowadays I find myself looking to photograph my “interior landscape” in whatever locations I am at. Instead of looking for grand gestures, I seek those intimate moments that pull my heart string. My changes in need for my camera gear follow my photography evolution. I can make do with a lot less camera equipment and accessories nowadays. Instead of lugging along a huge amount of gear, I am happy to use one simple setup. Sometimes I can photograph for weeks using just one prime lens without ever running into trouble of making images I want to make. This observation prompts me to say it is time to pare down what I have in possession. Instead of being burdened by the huge amount of equipment, I rather clear out my physical space that gives more room to my creativity.

Once I make the decision to declutter my gear, the process kicks into full force. I am happy to say I have made a lot of progress. This journey of eliminating the excess, besides helping me to make my camera equipment more manageable, has also made me reflect on other aspects in my life that may no longer serve me, hence deserve the same process of elimination.

When I hold on to things—things that can become burdensome or even forgotten about, as evidenced by my unused camera equipment stashed behind the closet door—I may not notice their impact at first glance, but they weigh on me psychologically. Freeing myself from the things I don’t truly cherish allow me to focus on other things in life that give me more joy.

When I go through the decluttering process and ask myself what brings me joy, I cannot help but look inward. While I may not be consciously aware of the process of self-examination when I am in the midst of it, nevertheless in hindsight I can see it as a healthy purging process that is of great value to my mental health. In essence, I am willfully choosing to create positive change by examining the meaning of my belongings—all the while clearing out unwanted stuff and making for a more enjoyable environment that is inducive to my well-being. Clearing out and putting order in my physical space not only helps shed the weight of physical clutter, it also helps me shed some emotional weight from closing a significant chapter in my life that is no longer relevant. It is my way of saying goodbye to the rules and practices of photography, coming from multiple influences that might have served me well in the past, but are no longer applicable to what I do nowadays.

“When you put your house in order, you put your past and your affairs in order, too,” writes Kondo, adding that, “as a result, you can see quite clearly what you need in life and what you don’t, and what you should and shouldn’t do.”

This process of decluttering is time consuming, but I feel a renewed and powerful sense of self after major progress has been made. It gives me a renewed sense of enthusiasm which I feel will help move me forward with my photography--making images that “spark joy” and give me the nourishment which enrich my life.